The Jibbsfest Memorial
by jibbsloversunited
Summary: Celebrating on Director Jenny Shepard and pretty much ignoring that Judgment Day happened.
1. May Jibbsfest

**May Jibbsfest!**

**And welcome to the month of May everyone. As your Jibbsfest host I have to bend to the will of the masses and have given in to a Jenny Memorial Jibbsfest. Now before you all get all morose and depressed on my read through the requirements.**

Things to Include:

_-stairs_

_-mention of Marsallies_

_-Arlington_

_-American Flag_

_-Dialogue from any episode Season 3-5 (a phrase, Gibbs rule, anything like that)_

_-Jenny must be alive by the end of the story (so either everyone thinks she's dead, or she's alive the whole time)_

Typically the stories are posted in the order in which they are received. However, in this case, I have changed the order slightly. I think you will all appreciate it.

Happy Jibbs Reading,

A'serene


	2. Last Judgment

**A/N:**_ This storyline is supposed to follow the events of Judgment Day Parts 1 & 2, but with alterations to fit the Jibbs requirement of Jibbsfest. I apologize in advance if anything is off (especially exact dialogue); I haven't seen this episode since it aired and wrote this entire fic based on what little I remember._

Last Judgment

by OrphanActress818

"Agent Gibbs!"

Gibbs turned, coffee cup in hand, to face the familiar voice that called down to him from the catwalk above. It was a voice that had, all too many times, tried and failed to keep him out of the lovely Director Shepard's office.

Sure enough, Cynthia stood in front of said office, her hands braced lightly on the railing of the landing. Gibbs nodded to her in acknowledgement before spinning sharply on his heel and striding quickly toward the stairs. By bounding up them two at a time, it took him mere seconds to reach her side.

He then proceeded to blink at her and sip his lukewarm coffee, content to let his boss' efficient assistant do all the talking.

Cynthia, for her part, didn't miss a beat. She'd been at NCIS long enough to understand that when Gibbs didn't want to talk (usually anytime before he'd ingested his second cup of his favorite Starbucks brew), it would take a very, very large crowbar to pry anything resembling words from him. So, before he had even completely stopped beside her, she had her mouth open and her hands gesturing.

"The Director wishes to see you in her office," she explained quickly, then added for his benefit, "She didn't say anything about why."

Gibbs gave her an almost imperceptible smile before brushing past her and through the door to the lioness's den without so much as a knock.

Watching him breeze through office protocol as if it didn't exist brought a grin to Cynthia's face. Though she would never, ever tell anyone if her life depended on it, it was this blatant rule breaking that made her days normal. Whenever she saw agents cowering, or The Team responding to orders before they had even been issued, or the Director herself shaking her head while trying to keep a smile off of her face, it was as if the world was right.

'_He's like the overly sticky, horribly annoying, gets-on-your-hands-no-matter-how-careful-you-are glue that holds this place together,'_ she mused, before shaking the thought away and heading to her desk and another busy workday.

oOo

NCIS Director Jenny Shepard looked up calmly as the door to her office was opened with a bang. She knew who it was before her eyes and brain had had a chance to coordinate the face she saw; only one person could ever make that dramatic of an entrance without even trying.

Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

"Good morning," she greeted, nodding at him.

"Mornin'," he replied, giving her a watered down version of the famous Gibbs stare that indicated he was not at all happy about being called up to her office before even reaching his own desk. "Wanted to see me 'bout something?"

"As a matter of fact," Jenny said briskly, "I did."

She stood up and rounded her desk, coming to a halt just enough in front of it—closer to her agent than before but still far enough away to tell him she would respect his personal space.

"William Decker," she informed him, saying the name slowly with slightly lowered eyes.

"What about him?" Clearly Gibbs was not about to make this easy on her.

"He passed away two days ago at his home in Los Angeles," she said with a hint of true sadness. Then she smiled wryly and shook her head. Her eyes came up to meet Gibbs' with a hint of a spark in them. "Correction. In his _pool_, at his _mansion_ in LA. Doctors ruled it as a heart attack."

A small chuckle worked its way up the Special Agent's throat. "'Atta boy, Decker."

Jenny's grin grew just a tiny bit wider. "Well, funeral's tomorrow morning at 10:00. I'm attending. I'll need backup and I figured you'd want to go too, so let's just kill two birds with one stone on this one."

"Fine by me," Gibbs shrugged, gesturing the hand holding his coffee in an arc, "That all?"

"Yes, Agent Gibbs, that's all. I'll have Melvin drop by your house on the way to the airport. Flight leaves at 5:00 AM."

"No need," Gibbs told her, already moving toward the door, "I'll meet you there."

Jenny didn't even have a chance to reply before her door was slammed firmly shut.

"Typical," she snorted before resettling herself in her chair and slipping her glasses firmly into place.

oOo

At 4:41 the next morning, Jenny strode into the terminal the flight to LA would be leaving from flanked by a bodyguard on either side. Watching her from the hard plastic chair he'd been sitting on for the past twenty minutes, Gibbs couldn't help but note that the redhead looked completely in her element. She moved quickly despite the hindrance of the 3-inch heels she was wearing and the heavy-looking bag slung over one shoulder; in fact, it was those two things (plus the bodyguards and the easy way she sipped from the cup of coffee in one hand while texting away at her Blackberry with the other) that set her apart from the civilians that surrounded her.

She slipped the phone into her bag just as she reached him. Out of courtesy, he stood. Their eyes locked.

"Good morning, Jethro," she said politely.

"Mornin' Jen," he answered, then nodded at the two men behind her. As if just noticing them, Jenny turned around.

"I'll be just fine from here," she told them, her voice light but with an undercurrent of steel, "Agent Gibbs can take charge of my security from now until I return from Los Angeles."

"But, ma'am—" one of the guards began. He didn't get any further before a glare from Jenny silenced him. Without another word, the two nodded and retreated back the way they had come.

Gibbs sat back down, this time with Jenny in the chair beside him. They sat in silence for a few minutes, each sipping at their favorite morning beverage. Finally, Jenny turned slightly in her chair and opened her mouth, but just as she did, her phone rang. Immediately, she reached for it, turning so that she once again faced straight ahead.

"Hello, Cynthia. Yes. No, I did not tell him he could…"

Gibbs tuned out the rest of her conversation, choosing instead to lean back and admire the speed at which she slipped back into administrative mode.

And the way the neckline of her top gaped as she leaned forward to rest her elbows on her knees as she talked.

Just then, a robotic female voice announced it was boarding time. As Jenny was still talking, Gibbs tapped her on the elbow and waited for her to rise before walking beside her all the way from the terminal to their seats, his hand hovering just above the small of her back the whole time—not touching, but close enough for both of them to be aware that it was there.

oOo

The funeral wasn't exactly a large affair, but there were enough people there that it could be called one. Gibbs and Jenny stood quietly at the back, letting those who had been in better contact with Decker over the past ten years have their chance to grieve.

Altogether, the whole thing ended up taking a little over an hour. People dispersed rapidly as soon as the body was in the ground, people, the two NCIS employees noticed, that seemed to be mainly neighbors and acquaintances they weren't familiar with.

'_In fact,'_ Jenny mused as she scanned some of the names before her own after she finished signing the guestbook, _'there really isn't anyone here that Jethro or I know.'_

"Done yet," Gibbs murmured in her ear. Jenny jumped slightly. God, why did he insist on standing _right_ behind her?

"Yeah," she said, handing him the pen, then stepping off to the side.

It was then that she saw him. A tall man with strong Russian features walking up to the table where the guestbook lay. He hadn't attended the funeral, but that wasn't such an unusual occurrence. In fact, neither Jenny nor Gibbs would have paid any more attention to him had it not been for the words he uttered.

"Excuse me," he said, motioning to the man sitting behind the table, "Do you know if there is a Mr. Oshimida on that list?"

Both froze mid stride. They glanced at each other briefly before smoothly slipping back into their roles as partners. Gibbs turned around, blocking Jenny's body with his own while simultaneously getting a good look at the man as he spun on his heel and headed back to his car. Jenny, meanwhile, reached into her bag and pulled out her phone. Placing it beside Gibbs' elbow, she snapped as many shots of the man as she could, making sure to catch the license plate on the car he stepped into before it sped away.

"Did you get him?" Gibbs asked quietly once the car had peeled away and they had resumed walking again.

Jenny scrolled through the pictures she had taken and swore under her breath. "Damnit. I didn't get his face."

"Plates?" Gibbs questioned as he opened his car door.

"About half of it," Jenny replied, still scrolled absentmindedly even as she sat down and buckled her seat belt.

"Send all of 'em to Abby," Gibbs instructed, swerving their rental onto the street in a move that almost caused it to flip over. Jenny barely noticed.

"Should I tell her anything?"

"Just say that I've got a gut feeling," her partner-once-more replied. "She won't question it."

"Sent," Jenny announced after a moment, storing her phone in her bag once more. She cringed slightly as she noticed just how fast they were weaving in and out of the cars of the freeway they were heading down, but said nothing.

After a moment, Gibbs said with assurance, "Decker would've known."

Jenny nodded her head once. "This heart attack isn't starting to look like a heart attack anymore."

"Sure isn't," Gibbs agreed, then glanced at her for a brief second before once again training his eyes on the road, "But what I want to know is how the hell whoever that was knows about 'oshimida'."

"I think that's one question we'd both like answered, Jethro," the redhead stated firmly, turning her head just a fraction toward the window so that he wouldn't see her right eye twitch.

oOo

Gibbs parked smack in the middle of Decker's driveway with a heart-stopping screech of brakes. The house was impressive, though not the mansion Jenny had joked about it being, and utterly still.

Moving quickly, the two made their way through the lock on the door and the security system—Gibbs picking the lock the old fashioned way and Jenny using her recently discovered tech skills to disable security. From there it took them about five seconds to find Decker's laptop.

"He had to have left _something_," Jenny muttered under her breath.

Just then a small scraping noise came from the closet. Two heads snapped up simultaneously before two bodies crept carefully to the closet door.

Gibbs opened it to reveal a small, platinum blond woman curled up in a corner, blinking owlishly up at them with big blue eyes watery with tears. They watched as she visibly curled into herself, wrapping her arms around her legs and shrinking further away from them.

"Please d-don't…" she sobbed.

"We're not going to hurt you," Jenny said soothingly, crouching down next to the woman. "We're some old friends. We were at the funeral earlier."

The blond head bobbed slightly. "I remember you," she choked out. Then she stood and wiped the tears from her face.

"Why are you here?" she asked, eyes darting between Gibbs and Jenny.

This time it was Gibbs who answered. "We believe William didn't die of a heart attack," he said slowly.

The woman surprised them both by nodding. "Me neither. I'm his girlfriend, Sasha," she told them, "and Will was perfectly healthy. I really don't believe he could just…get in the pool one day and…"

"We know," Jenny sympathized, "It's hard. But we really need your help. If we're going to find whoever did this, we need you to remember if William said anything to you—anything at all that might have seemed strange."

"William never said anything specific," Sasha told them, her voice gaining composure as she talked, "He just said that if anything were to happen to him, I was to deliver a message."

Unbeknownst to each other, both Jenny and Gibbs quirked up an eyebrow at the exact same time.

"To whom?" Jenny inquired.

Instead of answering, Sasha stepped around them and headed for the bookshelf. Pulling a thick volume from the top shelf, she flipped through it until she found what she was looking for. She turned back and handed a card to Gibbs.

He immediately read aloud the name written on it in Decker's once-familiar handwriting.

"Jenny Shepard, Director of NCIS." Once again, the eyebrows went up.

Sasha didn't miss the look. "You know her?"

Gibbs glanced at Jenny before replying. "Unfortunately."

"She's an old friend, too," Jenny added, giving Gibbs a glare that would have made a lesser man fear for his life. Gibbs merely hid his smirk by looking down at the card once more. Under Jenny's name is an address and, taped under that, a key.

He held up the card. "What's the key for?"

"William bought a diner 'bout a month ago," Sasha explained when she saw the key, "He was going to fix it up but never got around to it. He said he left an insurance policy there for this Jenny person."

"Well, we'll make sure she gets it as soon as we get back to DC," Gibbs told her, nothing but sincerity in his eyes. Jenny, however, wasn't fooled. She knew that behind the face showed only perfect sympathy, there was a mind working at twice its normal speed to somehow try and piece this whole mess together.

"Sasha," Jenny said, touching the blond's arm gently, "Do you have any family, anyone you can go to?"

"My parents," Sasha replied.

"Here." Jenny fished the keys to the rental car parked haphazardly in the driveway, "Take this. It'll be safer. Head to your parents and stay for a couple of weeks until this is all cleared up."

"Thank you," Sasha whispered, eyes wide with gratitude. She grabbed the keys and, not even bothering to pack a suitcase, headed out the door without a backward glance.

Left standing alone in the eerie quiet of the deserted living room, Jenny and Gibbs had no other option but to talk.

"Why didn't you just tell her who you were?" Gibbs asked, searching her face with eyes that seemed to demand the truth.

"To keep her safe," Jenny replied simply, moving past him to the garage. They would take Decker's car. "The less she knows, the better."

"Well, that all depends," Gibbs shot back, "on how you think this is going to go down."

Jenny stopped mid-stride and turned to look back at him.

"Just the way you like it," she said with a little smile, "No paperwork."

oOo

McGee entered Abby's lab to find her spinning her chair from side to side while chewing on her bottom lip and scowling at her monitor.

"Hey, Abby," he called, heading toward her armed with Caf-Pow.

"Hi, McGee," she said somewhat dully.

"Watcha lookin' at?" McGee asked, glancing at her screen to see what had her so depressed.

"Oh!" Abby shot straight up in her chair and covered the screen with both hands. "I'm not supposed to tell you McGee!"

"Says who?"

"The Director," Abby replied primly, "She sent me some stuff that she said she and Gibbs wanted me to look at."

"Uh-huh. And now you're having trouble with it," McGee said, trying to pry information out of her as discreetly as possibly.

"Yeah," Abby huffed, "She didn't get a pic of his fa— Hey! You're trying to get me to talk! Well it ain't happening, Mister!"

She poked him in the chest, "It's secret."

"Did the Director tell you to keep it secret?"

"Well, not exactly… But I'm going to anyway!"

"Abby," McGee said, finally resorting to drastic measures. "You know, if the Director didn't tell you specifically to keep it secret, then maybe it's nothing. I could help you. And…" he paused dramatically, "I have Caf-Pow."

He brandished the drink high above his head. Abby looked about ready to weep.

"McGee! You can't do this to me. You can't force me to make decisions like this!"

"Abbs, c'mon. You know I can help." McGee was practically pleading. His curiosity had definitely gotten the better of him.

"Oh fine!" Abby pouted, but she moved her hands and grabbed the Caf-Pow, gulping it down eagerly.

"Is this it?" McGee said as he viewed the images Jenny had sent to the scientist.

"Uh-huh," Abby nodded, "That's all. She just wants me to identify the guy and the driver, but she didn't get a face shot of either of them and I've tried everything, but I just don't know what to do!"

She took a single deep breath before slurping down some more Caf-Pow.

"Hmm…okay." McGee drummed his fingers on the table, staring at the photos thoughtfully.

"Hey!" he exclaimed, "I've got it!"

"Got what, McGee?"

"This guy's on a cell phone," McGee said, pointing at the man walking to the car, "If I can get a record of all the calls made in the area at the time this picture was taken, we've got a name."

"McGee," Abby told him reverently, "You are a genius."

Then she reached out and punched his shoulder. "Why didn't I think of that?!"

oOo

About an hour later, Jenny and Gibbs pulled up in front of the remains of a very old, very rundown diner armed with federal issue handguns and knowledge of Viggo Drantyev, a man who appeared out of thin air three days ago and disappeared into that very same air that morning.

Of course, the unveiling of such information had resulted in another Caf-Pow for Abby—to be put on Gibbs' tab, of course.

"Sure picked one hell of a place," Gibbs said lightly as he opened the door.

"That he did," Jenny replied, looking around. "Now, were would he hide that _insurance policy_?"

The two searched the entire diner, craning their necks to get a look under each table and chair and even opening up the old-fashioned pot-bellied stove in one corner and peering around.

Finally, Jenny threw her hands up in frustration. "There's got to be something! Photos, numbers…"

"Well, there a lot of photos," Gibbs pointed out.

"Yeah, but—" the redhead stopped midsentence and went over to get a closer look at the pictures hung up on the wall. With a start, she realized that she recognized them.

"Jethro," she called, "Come look at these."

Gibbs walked over to stand by her side. "I remember these."

"He used the code," Jenny murmured, so low that Gibbs barely heard her.

"The dates?"

"They're wrong," she announced. Quickly she pulled a scrap of paper and a pen from her bag and wrote down every set of numbers she could see, moving from picture to picture quickly.

"All right," she said once she was done.

Gibbs nodded once. "And now we wait."

For several minutes, all that could be heard was the screeching of the old windmill outside as the lazy wind passed through; neither Gibbs nor Jenny said a word, preferring to sit in silence with their guns resting on their bent knees.

Suddenly, Gibbs chuckled softly.

"What?" Jenny inquired, her mouth automatically quirking up in response to his laughter.

"Remind you of someplace, Jen?"

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before answering. "Not really."

"Marseilles," he said. "This is just like it."

"No, it's not," Jenny replied, not looking at him.

"Yes, it is, Jenny," he repeated.

"Jethro…" she paused for a moment, as if not quite sure how to continue. "This is different. We were…partners then. That was a mission. I don't know what the hell this is."

She finally looked up to meet his steely blue gaze. His eyes were unwavering as he spoke.

"What changed, Jen?"

"I-I…I really don't know," Jenny admitted, "But it's the past and I'd rather not talk about it."

"Jenny," Gibbs said, "If now's not the time, then when is?"

She didn't answer so he continued.

"And, yes, this is like Marseilles, because I need to be able to trust you like I did back then. You can't keep hiding things, Jen. This may not be a real mission but something could happen and we could die in this hole."

"I know." Jenny's response was quiet but firm. "I know we could die. I know I haven't told you a lot of things. But I will _always_ have your six, Jethro."

He stared at her, her cheeks tinged slightly pink and her eyes nearly crackling with the vehemence she'd put into her statement. After a moment, he nodded.

"That's all I needed to hear."

And so they spent the remaining wait in silence, each reminiscing on better times, better days, when the idea of true partnership came so easily to both of them.

oOo

The next morning found the entire team, plus Abby and Ducky, eagerly awaiting the return of The Boss. The five coworkers exchanged light, easy banter even as they all strained to be the first to hear the tell-tale ding of the elevator.

Finally, that ding came.

"He's here!" Abby cried, leaping up from her perch on McGee's desk and running for the elevator.

"Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs…oh. Director…"

"Hello, Abby," Jenny replied, choosing to reply only to Abby's words and not her questioning stare. She already knew she looked horrible, but after the events of the previous afternoon and the handing off of the "investigation" to Leon Vance (who had assured her he would follow any orders she gave him), she had only just managed to arrive back. It certainly helped to have friends in high places—one call had secured a private jet to DC, something that was definitely easier than attempting to find a last minute ticket. Of course, she wasn't sure any airline would let her board a plane dressed as she was.

She was still wearing the light blue shirt and pale jeans she'd worn the day before, though the original color of either garment was questionable as they were both, along with her shoes, stained with red.

"Jennifer?" Ducky questioned, coming up beside her and resting a hand on her shoulder, "You look a fright. And where, may I ask, is Jethro?"

Jenny felt a lump rising in her throat as she looked at all the faces before her. Each was so different, yet so familiar… Right now, however, they all had one thing in common—each was drained of all color and washed over with a mixture of premature grief, worry, regret, anger, and more sorrow than any of them should ever have had to experience.

'_And,'_ Jenny thought, _'It's all my fault.'_

With that, the dam that had been holding back all of her tears since the moment she realized that, no matter how hard she tried, his heart would never beat again, broke and she leaned against Ducky and cried.

oOo

Leroy Jethro Gibbs died a hero, Jenny made sure of that. He'd been protecting not only his country, but her as well, when he fell. And, though she had been offered a plot in Arlington Cemetery to bury his body in, she declined. He belonged by the two people he'd loved the most.

It was almost unfair that his funeral was on what would probably be the most beautiful day that summer. The sun was big and bright overhead, shining down cheerfully on the solemn procession before it.

So many people had come to pay their final respects to the man that taken the world by storm. It was amazing to Jenny the sheer number of lives he touched, the number of people who'd loved, honored, and admired him. Tears flowed freely among those people as they remembered the one man they'd thought would always be there.

Everyone except Jenny. She sat in the front row next to a somber Ducky, in an elegant black dress that a certain blue-eyed man had once said was nice, and remained dry-eyed throughout the entire proceedings. Oh yes, she was mourning just as much as the rest, but she'd cried her tears and there was no more room for more. She didn't deserve to keep grieving because it was her fault he was in that coffin in the first place. He'd died for her, even though it was she who was supposed to have his six. And, for that, she would always hate herself.

As everyone moved to leave, she stood and walked forward. She passed Gibbs' newly dug grave and stopped before the all-too-old ones of Shannon and Kelly. The graves looked well-cared for, and a small American flag was stuck in the ground between them.

Standing before them, she bowed her head and whispered, "I don't know whether Jethro told you that he thinks apologies are a sign of weakness, but that's what he taught me. Well, if that's what they are, then I'm so, so sorry. I should have seen it, moved faster…anything really. Then maybe…maybe he would still be here. But I guess that's me being selfish. I regret leaving him all those years ago and I regret never telling him what he wanted to know in that godforsaken diner. All I can hope now is that he's with you now, and that you're all happier than you've ever been. Just p-please make sure he rests in peace."

oOo

That night, Jenny sat restlessly at her desk, a sheet of paper with two words written on it in front of her and a pen in one hand. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get beyond 'Dear Jethro' before she ran out of things to say.

Suddenly, she heard a noise. It sounded enough like a footstep to have her instantly look up and find herself staring at a blond Russian woman with a gun aimed directly between her eyes standing in the doorway to her study.

"Good evening, Jenny," the woman greeted calmly in heavily accented English.

"Hello, Svetlana," Jenny replied, her voice just as calm. Nothing betrayed her fear, for she had no fear. She had a plan.

Within a second the gun that had been sitting on her desk (within easy reach for her but impossible to see to anyone standing in the doorway as it was blocked from view by a rather large pencil holder) was in her hand.

Within another second, two shots rang out.


	3. Memorial Day

Memorial Day

by Ilovenascar

Jethro Gibbs stood at attention, watching the flag-covered coffin be buried at Arlington National Cemetery. After all, where else would one expect the director of NCIS to be buried? He stood silently cursing Vance and the fact that he'd gotten what he wanted. Vance's death wasn't being ruled a suicide, but 'accidental', about as accidental as Jenny's had been. Nothing had been revealed about his activities and, more likely than not, nothing ever would. There were still whispers, rumors, about what Jenny had been up to with La Grenuoille. Vance's family, his wife and little girls, cried near his open grave; he hadn't been able to shed a tear while he'd watched Jenny's casket enter the cold ground. His body cringed at the shots fired, thinking of how many bullets had flown around the café in that desert. Two burials of NCIS directors in a year, but they couldn't be more different. He felt his sister squeeze his hand, standing between him and DiNozzo. He'd insisted that all his agents be there, show proper respect to the office, if not to the man himself. Abby had refused to come, playing her jazz music all week out of respect for Jenny, and Ducky wasn't in town, but the rest were there, even Franks. His old friend met his eyes before going back to the coffin, everyone biding their time until they could leave.

After the burial, each went home for a few hours, since it was a holiday anyway, Memorial Day. Gibbs thought of the box he'd buried of Kelly's things, always thinking of all his lost loved ones on Memorial Day, not just the men and women he had served with. He thought of Kelly, Shannon, Ryan, Kate, but most of all, he thought of Jenny.

He remembered the last time he'd had any sort of real conversation with her before the shooting. He'd conned her into watching a kid from one of their cases, Carson, and hadn't seen her that relaxed in years. He'd come over to the house to check on the kid and stayed until the boy fell asleep. He'd walked downstairs with Jenny, almost fooling himself into thinking once again what it would have been like to have a family with her. Maybe that was why they'd said what they had. It had been far too late to discuss anything of the sort with her, too late at night and too late in their lives. Their courses were already set, had been since they were in Paris.

"_Once upon a time I would have asked you to stay and I wouldn't have taken no for an answer."_

"_No."_

"_What happened, Jethro?"_

"_You made a choice."_

"_I had to do what was right for me. I still do."_

He had done what seemed right for him at the time, stayed behind that day, let Ziva and Tony go with her as bodyguards. He knew the conversation would go to Paris again, something neither of them needed. He had chosen to let her two favorite agents go with her, the only two he really trusted. He knew they still blamed themselves. Neither had ever really recovered from the shooting; no one had. Ziva had put in a transfer back to Israel after Vance's death and Tony was attending AA meetings once a week. Even he himself had changed without Jenny; he felt like detached from his body, like he wasn't really there.

He looked at the stairs, seeing Franks coming down. "Nice of you to come to the funeral."

"I thought maybe I could drive a stake through his heart. See if he was really dead." He paused, looking Gibbs square in the eye. "I'm only gonna ask you this once, probie." He paused again. "Did you kill Vance?"

Gibbs shook his head. "No. Do I wish I had? Yeah." He paused. "I guess I can burn that now," he said, looking at Vance's file of misdeeds.

"You could spread it around Washington, leak it to a paper. It might help get her name cleared around here."

"You spend too much time with her. Starting to sound like her," Gibbs said, half-smiling.

Franks paused, looking uncomfortable, and then looked straight into his eyes, handing him a plane ticket. Gibbs studied them and then his friend. "Is she okay?"

"Jasper." Gibbs grew pale, his eyes widening, as he ran upstairs to get packed.

*****

Gibbs' body was tired after the flight from Washington to Marseille, even more so as he looked at how much the city had changed since he and Jenny had lived there. He didn't even think that he would recognize the place he and Jenny had been undercover for so many nights in a row, where they'd first made love. At any other time, he would have gone to see if he could still find it, traveled on the Corniche, visited the familiar beaches, but he had a mission he had to fulfill, a duty to his partner that he wouldn't abandon.

He got a rental car and drove to the address on the paper, half-smiling to himself as he saw the small house with a garden that Jenny had called home for the last year. He left his bags in the car, locking it, as he walked up the small path to the front door, knocking, seeing a petite brunette answer the door. "Je cherche Jenny Shepard." The woman looked doubtful at him. "Je suis son partenaire."

"Jethro," a familiar voice sounded, Ducky walking out of the darkened hallway. "Marie, il va bien." He led his friend away from the housekeeper.

"How bad is it, Ducky?" Gibbs asked worriedly.

"It won't be long. She's being strong, but she hasn't left his side for over a day."

Gibbs' eyes closed. "She already lost him once." He ran a hand through his hair. "Is she awake? I need to see her."

"He's sleeping more and more; I told her she needed to rest while he does. She's asleep." He hesitated. "Go on in, just…don't wake her." He knew he didn't have to tell Gibbs that, but he'd tried to protect Jenny as she healed from her gunshot wounds and as her father lost his battle with cancer. He felt like she was his own daughter now.

Jenny had her eyes closed, her breathing evened out. Her body hurt from being in the chair for so long but she couldn't leave him. She remembered thinking that she was going crazy, the Russian telling her that her father was still alive, the scotch on her desk. She remembered him coming to her after La Grenuoille died. At the time it seemed cruel, telling her that he was alive, just to tell her that he had a fatal brain tumor, but she'd realized that she'd been given another chance, to be a daughter, to have a father, to say goodbye. When she'd been shot, it had been Gibbs, Ducky, and her father who'd taken care of her. She wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for them. She missed Jethro so badly that she hurt, wished he could be there with her. They talked almost constantly on the phone, but phone calls weren't the same as seeing his grin or feeling his arms around her.

"_Special Agent Gibbs! On the job, it is Director Shepard or ma'am." _He had been so close that she could still smell the coffee and sawdust, remember the warmth of his presence.

"_Okay, what about off the job?"_

"_There won't be any 'off the job', Agent Gibbs."_

"_That's too bad…I missed you, Jen."_ It was that same grin that always found her getting in trouble in more ways than she could count.

"_Don't make this difficult, Jethro."_

"_Fair enough. Won't happen again, Director." _He had, they both had, made things difficult too many times to count.

"_We can continue this conversation in private."_ And they had, again too many times to count, but it always ended the same way.

"Jethro," Gibbs heard her whisper his name in her sleep as he entered the room, seeing a completely different scenario than he'd expected. The last time he'd seen Jasper, he'd looked much the same as he had in the picture he'd dug up during the La Grenuoille episodes. It had been Jenny in the bed that time, Jasper beside his daughter, holding her hand. Jenny's hair was longer, halfway down her back if she didn't have it up, and although she looked like she was physically healed, she still looked frail and tired.

He heard her call his name again and kissed her forehead. "I'm here, Jen. I'm right here with you."

Jenny's eyes opened and she looked up at him, taking a moment to realize he wasn't a dream. "Jethro."

"I'm here, Jen. I'm here." He sat beside her on the ottoman near her chair, studying her.

"How?" She was still in a daze, in awe of him actually being there.

"Franks told me. I just left." He hadn't told his sister nor any of his people where he was going, although he was sure they could all figure it out. He'd never felt comfortable telling them where she was, but they all knew that she was alive, that she'd survived the brutal gun battle that day. He kissed her forehead. "Why didn't you call me?"

"Too damned stubborn," came Jasper's raspy voice, opening his eyes to see the man he considered his son-in-law sitting with his daughter.

"Now is that a nice thing to say?" Jenny asked, trying to smile for him.

"It's true. You've always…always been as beautiful as your mom, but as stubborn as your old man." He looked at Jethro for backup.

"Would've made a good Marine, made a hell of an NCIS agent." He teased her, watching her color slightly before turning his attention back to Jasper. "How are you doing, sir?"

It was obvious from his face that he liked the 'sir' being tacked on. "I'm dying."

"Dad…" Jenny started, reaching for Jethro's hand.

"It's the truth, Jenny girl. No sense denying it." He paused. "When's the last time you ate?"

"I'm not hungry, Dad," she said, shaking her head.

"Jenny, I would like to talk to Jethro," he said more plainly.

Jenny looked doubtful, looking at her dad, at Jethro, and back at her dad, nodding before leaving the room. Both men watched her leave before turning their attention back to the other. "You'll take care of her for me?"

Gibbs nodded. "Yes, sir." He swallowed a lump in his throat. "As much as she'll let me."

"And even if she doesn't. Don't let her do anything dangerous or foolish. Take care of her."

"I promise." Jasper nodded, starting to gasp for air and Jethro moved to the door quickly, calling Jenny back into the room. She took her chair back, Gibbs taking the ottoman again, and both sat there, Jenny holding her father's hand, even after they felt what was left of Jasper Shepard leave the room.

*****

Jethro sat on the side of Jenny's bed, brushing back some of the long red hair from her face, leaning down to kiss her temple. When she'd finally left her father's side, she'd crashed hard, sleeping for what seemed like days but was really hours. He'd helped Ducky clean Jasper up, deciding what to do with him. He'd found instructions, along with a letter to Jenny, on Jasper's nightstand, detailing his desire to be buried in France, on the property. He had dug the hole himself, had called his people, had his sister bring the coffin Jasper had asked him to make. Ducky had prepared the body and instructed Marie to cook, something for Jenny to eat when she woke, and something for the team to eat when they arrived.

"Jethro?" Jenny looked up at him, her eyes as red as her hair, opening her arms for him to crawl into, which he did.

"You okay?" He asked, holding her, kissing her forehead.

"Tired. Very, very tired." She paused. "I think I am. He was sick for so long, in so much pain…and he's not now. I knew it was coming. At least I got to say goodbye this time."

"The team's coming. They want to be with you."

She half-smiled, biting her bottom lip. "They don't have to do that."

"They want to. They've missed you." He paused. "I miss you, Jen."

She nodded. "Ducky told me about Vance. I can't say I'm sorry." He had blackmailed her out of her position, threatening to tell what he thought was the truth behind La Grenuoille's murder. "Jethro…there's something I have to tell you."

He studied her very seriously, stroking her cheek. "What's that, Jenny?"

"La Grenuoille…" She started.

He grimaced. "Jen, it doesn't matter. The past is in the past. It doesn't matter right now, honey."

"Jethro, would you listen?" She looked into his blue eyes and then, finally, told him the truth. "I didn't kill him."

"I know you didn't," Gibbs said truthfully. "Jasper did." He saw the look in her eyes. "Your dad told me. When we first brought you here. I can't say I don't wish you would have told me, but I can say that it doesn't matter." He paused. "I let go of that hurt a year ago. Realized that I'd rather have you, regardless of who did what to whom, than let you go."

"I don't know what I want to do now. I hadn't really let myself think about 'after'. It's funny…before the shooting, all I cared about was that 'I' had finally made 'director'." She emphasized her title. "Now it just doesn't mean as much."

"You need time, Jen. Time to heal." He wrapped his arms around her again. "And whatever you decide that you want to do, I'll be there…if you still want me."

Before she could respond, there was a knock on the open door. "Anthony called. They're leaving Marseille now."

"Thank you, Ducky," Jenny's soft voice sounded in the quiet, dark room.

"Marie's prepared food," he said, inferring that she needed to eat.

Jenny nodded, getting up, wiping her eyes, Jethro seeing the ring he'd placed on her finger the last time he traveled back to the States. "I need to get dressed."

Gibbs nodded, going out with Ducky, closing the door behind him. "Is she okay?"

"She says she is." He paused. "You should rest."

"After the funeral. When Jen does." Ducky nodded, knowing better than to argue.

*****

Jenny emerged in a black dress and heels, wearing the necklace her father had given her when she started NCIS and the ring Jethro had given her. The weight she'd lost was evident to all her team. Abby Scuito approached first, hugging her small frame. "Thank you, Abby," Jenny whispered quietly to her, hugging her back.

Jamie Gibbs approached her 'sister', hugging her gently. "Jen, I'm so sorry."

"Jamie…" Jenny paused. "Thank you."

After McGee greeted Jenny, without a hug, Jamie looked at her brother. "Jen, why don't we go back inside?" Jenny nodded, allowing Abby and Jamie to walk her back inside, leaving the agents with Gibbs.

"Boss?" Tony asked, not questioning, just waiting.

"Let's move it inside." He and Tony each picked up an end of the wooden casket, carrying it inside the house, to the room where Ducky waited.

*****

It was a simple funeral, not at all the full-fledged military honors Vance had received only days before. Jenny stood between Abby and Jamie, Ducky and McGee standing behind them after helping carry the body out to the house. Tony and Gibbs lowered the coffin down into the ground, allowing Jenny to drop the first handful of dirt, her eyes on Gibbs'. She stood there, holding the girls' hands, her eyes closing as she heard the dirt hitting the wood coffin that Jethro had handmade at her father's request. It seemed so final as she knew this time he wouldn't be coming back home.

They went back inside after the service and Marie had the food laid out in a buffet style. Jenny finally managed to make her way to Tony, catching him, her eyes holding him still, making him stay instead of running away as he had for a year. "Tony…I'm sorry."

"Never apologize…"

"It's a sign of weakness," she finished for him. "Not this time. The shooting…it wasn't your fault. If you and Ziva had been there, you couldn't have changed anything. It might even have gotten you killed. I never would have wanted that."

He shifted, choosing his words carefully. "I felt like I let you down, like I let Gibbs down again."

"You did everything right, Tony. You both did." She paused. "You didn't let him down. You could never do that." She paused again. "How are the meetings going?"

He looked at Jamie who smiled at him, her blue eyes lightening a little bit, and then back at Jenny. "I'm doing good. I'm sorry about your dad." She nodded in silent thanks. "You look like you're doing much better than the last time I saw you. Are you moving back to Washington?"

She caught Gibbs' eyes as he looked worriedly at her. "It's something I have to talk over with someone."

*****

As everyone settled into the small cottage for the night, Jenny and Gibbs slipped away alone together, heading outside. He wrapped his arms around her, resting his head on top of hers. "You still doing okay?"

"Tired, but I'm going to be okay," she turned to face him, her body against his.

"How'd your talk with DiNozzo go?" He knew she felt as guilty about Tony's problems as the agent did about her getting hurt.

"He's worried that he let you down."

"If I had gone with you, none of that would have happened," he said honestly. "I never should have assigned you to them. You're my responsibility."

She looked into his eyes, pulling away slightly. "Responsibility?"

"I misspoke." He looked at her. "You're my partner. You're my responsibility just as I'm yours."

"You asked earlier if I wanted you here." He nodded. "I don't care. I don't care if you're here or I'm there. I just want to be with you. I've spent too long running, hiding, away from you…I want to be with you."

He held her hand, looking at the ring he'd given her, the stone matching her eyes. "I told you when I left the last time that the next time I came, I'd ask you a question to go with that."

"Jethro…"

He studied her, still holding her hand. "I realize my timing isn't the greatest in the world, but there's never going to be good timing with us, unfortunately." He paused. "I love you, Jen." He tried to think of exactly the right thing to say and finally spoke again, "You complete me."

"You were asking a question?" She said, trying not to cry, thinking of the words he'd just said 'you complete me'.

"I know this sounds ridiculous, but…I want to marry you. I want to wake up every morning and have you beside me. The last thing I want to hear before I go to sleep is your voice and not on a damned phone call, but with me…" He couldn't explain it.

"Jethro…" She took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "I don't believe in divorce. Not with us. If we're doing this, it'll be for better, for worse."

"For richer, for poorer," Gibbs added.

Jenny thought of Gibbs' coma and her own shooting. It was a miracle they were alive, but they had been with each other through it all. "In sickness and health."

He couldn't say 'til death do us apart', remembering how death had parted him and Shannon, the only woman he'd loved as much as he loved Jenny. His greatest fear was that death would part them too. Instead, he simply said, "Forever and ever, Jen. Forever and ever." She nodded, their eyes connected, still holding on to each other.


	4. Explanations Can Wait

**Title: Explanations Can Wait  
Author: Pandora of Ithilien**

**Disclaimer: NCIS and all related characters: not mine. Alex, on the other hand, is mine.**

Jethro could feel his team's eyes on him, but he ignored them. This scene was familiar, standing by and watching as a woman he loved was lowered into the ground. The first time, the pain had been both worse, because it wasn't just Shannon but Kelly as well, and yet less, because he didn't have the drive for revenge holding back the worst of the pain. Mike had killed Svytlena, and Jenny herself had taken out the men who'd murdered her, so there was no more revenge to be had. All he was left with was the pain and the regrets.

_"Once upon a time I would have asked you to stay. And I wouldn't have taken no for an answer."_

_"No." _

Why hadn't he stayed? God knew he'd wanted to. But he hadn't been willing to risk it, not if she wasn't serious, not if all she'd wanted was one night. And even if he had, there was the kid. Carson. But he could have gone to see her another night. He could have asked, could have pushed until he knew exactly what she'd been suggesting. But he hadn't. The fact was, she'd opened the door she'd closed that first day on the stairs when she'd coolly informed him that there would be no off-the-job. And he'd been the one to ignore it. And now it was too late.

It wasn't until he was leaving Arlington that he saw her. A tall, slender redhead holding a folded American flag, locked in a heated confrontation with Leon Vance. Alex, Jen's baby sister. He'd never met her, but Jen had talked about her a lot when they'd been in Europe and had mentioned her a few times over the past few years. He'd been shocked when the woman hadn't given the eulogy – she'd left it to Vance to do. Maybe she agreed with him that this whole funeral had been about the Director, not Jenny at all.

But that wasn't what the argument was about, he found as he drew closer. Alex and Vance had chosen a shadowed corner of the parking lot so they wouldn't be noticed, but it also made sneaking up on them easier. And what he heard…

"I'm sorry, Alex. But this isn't my op, don't blame me."

"Right, Leon, you're just a pawn in all this. I find that very difficult to believe."

_What?_ Since when did Jen's sister – a civilian scientist contracted by the Air Force, if he remembered correctly – know Leon Vance well enough to be on a first-name basis with him?

"Hardly a pawn, but I'm not a major player either. Talk to Ravenwood."

"I already did. It was 'need-to-know', and I didn't need to until it was all over. Though she did say I was supposed to know before the 'death'. Something about the original plan involving a staged car crash. I guess L.A. was an unplanned development."

"That was the impression I got. You'd better go, before someone gets suspicious. I know you don't like this set-up, but if it works…"

"I'm not going to jeopardize it. Fine, but this isn't over. I've got no plans to just roll over. This is a truly screwed up situation."

"Just keep me out of your solution. Your methods of repair are usually messy."

"Will do. Take care, Leon."

Jethro stood frozen, too stunned to move. He wasn't exactly sure what had just been said here, but some things had certainly been implied. And he was going to find out the truth of it all if it killed him.

Vance's rearrangement of his team slowed him down a bit. Jethro didn't trust his new team enough to leave them alone for longer than a few hours, and besides, he didn't want to draw Vance's suspicions just yet. He did, however, pour all the energy he could spare and then some into bringing his team back. He'd have lied if he said that Abby's pleas, the wistful look he saw in McGee's eyes every time they happened to cross paths, the stories of bombs in the Middle East that inevitably brought Ziva to mind, or the utterly dejected look on DiNozzo's face when he'd left for the U.S.S. Reagan had nothing to do with his drive, but that wasn't all. Once he had his team back, people he could trust alone for a few days – with Ducky's supervision – he could take a little trip to Colorado Springs and find out just what the hell was going on.

He gave it two weeks once Tony was back, the last of them to return. Gave them the time to readjust to each other. Then he informed his senior agent that he was in charge for a week, got the time off from Vance, and caught a plane to Colorado Springs.

Standing outside Alexandra Shepard's apartment door, he experienced one moment of hesitation. What if they'd been talking about something completely unrelated to Jen? Hell, what if he'd imagined the entire thing and was finally going crazy? Pushing those thoughts aside – if he was going crazy, better he reveal it now to a stranger than in a time and place when his team might need him sane – he rang the doorbell.

The door opened to reveal Alex, who took off her reading glasses – identical to Jen's, he noticed – in order to see him more clearly. Her eyes narrowed with a mixture of suspicion and confusion. "Special Agent Gibbs? Um, what are you doing here?"

"I need to talk to you."

"Oh." And then a glint that somehow reminded him of Abby at her most devious crept into the green eyes, clearing all confusion away. "Come on in."

The apartment was decent-sized, and the living room was neat, though not as neat as Jen would have kept it. Alex clearly went in for knickknacks and a little clutter. "Sit down," she said. He took a chair and she perched on the arm of her couch. "So, what can I do for you?"

"At your sister's funeral, you were fighting with Vance. Something about an op that involved a fake death?"

"Oh, you heard that? Damn, you're good, I should have noticed you."

"I didn't know astronomers were so skilled at catching eavesdroppers."

"Oh, Jenny hasn't told you nearly everything there is to know about me. She's alive, by the way."

Maybe it was the fact that he'd been trying to suppress that hope since the funeral, or maybe it was the casually delivered statement, but Jethro couldn't quite believe her. "And how did that happen? Tony and Ziva know the difference between unconscious and dead." Too late he remembered the fire cover story.

"So glad you're not using that stupid cover story. Jen's always been too light a sleeper not to wake up if there was a fire. Anyway, I never said there wasn't a body, but it wasn't Jen's. And as for how that's possible, I'll let her tell you."

"Where is she?"

"Before I tell you, why do you want to know?"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"If you're just going to chew her out for pulling the death stunt, I'm not telling you."

He hadn't really considered what he'd do if Jen was alive and they came face-to-face again. But he knew that while fighting might be part of it, it wouldn't be all of it. "That's not what I want to see her for." And that was the truth, as much as he could say. "So where is she?"

"London." Alex hesitated, then added, "I'm flying out day after tomorrow; you can tag along."

"Why don't you just give me the address?" He didn't want a kid sister playing chaperone.

"Oh, I won't stick around. I've got other plans for this trip. The visit to Jen was probably going to be all fighting anyway. You know how sisters are."

He didn't, and he didn't give a damn. Jen was alive, and he was going to see her. Somehow, nothing else seemed to be important.

The flight had been quiet. Jethro wasn't one for conversation and Alex had brought work along. He didn't look at it; he wasn't really interested. Besides, he'd seen the 'CLASSIFIED' stamp on the folders; the last thing he needed was for the Air Force to throw him in jail. Not when he didn't at least have a good reason to know what was in the files. And it spared him from small talk.

They landed and Gibbs noticed it was raining. It reminded him of Marseilles. They'd run into that attic because it had been pouring. He still remembered how Jenny had muttered something about looking like a drowned rat, and his own incredulity at the comment. He'd told her that she didn't, she'd given him that skeptical look of hers, and he'd proven that he wasn't lying by pulling her to him and kissing her hard. That had been their first kiss, the first time they'd made love, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to remember right now or if he'd rather not think about it when he didn't know how this meeting would end.

They caught a cab to a nice apartment building. Alex led the way inside and to the elevators, hitting the button for the fifth floor. They got out and headed down the corridor. They turned a corner and stopped at the first door on the left. Alex raised a hand to knock and then stopped, glancing at Jethro. Then she pushed him lightly. "Go back around; if she sees you right off she might panic."

He rolled his eyes but did as she asked. After all, even he probably didn't know Jen as well as her sister did, so maybe it would be best to follow her advice. _Maybe I should have called Alex when her sister decided to run off and leave nothing but a Dear John letter_, he thought. Then again, she might have been no help at all. And since it had been almost a decade ago now, thinking about it was pointless.

He heard a door opening and a familiar voice say lightly, "You're late." Jenny. Any doubts he had vanished.

"Traffic sucked," Alex drawled.

"Oh, I'm sure. Why haven't you come in yet?"

"Oh, um…"

Great. Now she lost her nerve. Deciding he wasn't going to wait and see whether or not Alex would recover, he stepped around the corner. "Hi, Jen."

"Jethro…" Jenny whispered, in total shock. Then she whirled on Alex. "Alex! What the hell – !"

Alex held up a hand. "Don't even start."

"You… you… I thought you had more sense than to – !"

"Bye, Jen," Alex said. She grabbed Jethro's wrist and pulled him forward, actually sending him past Jenny in the doorway. Then she grabbed the door and closed it before either Jethro or Jenny could react.

They stared at each other for a minute, listening as Alex's running footsteps receded. Finally Jenny said weakly, "You shouldn't be here."

"Neither should you. You're looking good for a dead woman, by the way." She was looking good for anyone, actually. But now that he was here, all the pain of the past four months has turned into anger. Why had she done it?

"Jethro, you don't understand," she snapped.

"Well, explain it to me then. How could you do it, Jen?"

"Oh please. Look, I know about the team and I'm sorry. Vance shouldn't have done that. But really, Jethro. Stop acting like an administrative change was such a problem for you."

He just stared at her. She didn't just say that. She didn't think… No. She couldn't think that all any of them – especially him – cared about was getting a new boss. Except her eye hadn't twitched when she said it. She did believe it. "Jenny…" What the hell was he supposed to say?

"Why are you here?" she asked, frowning.

"Well, it's not because I'm upset over a new boss," he shot back, taking refuge in what was left of his earlier anger.

"Clearly. Just pissed at an old partner, I guess," she observed, using his own phrase against him.

"Damn it, Jen!" He raked a hand through his hair. "Do I have to spell it out?"

"Spell what out?"

He crossed the distance between them, putting his hands on her shoulders so she couldn't move back. "Do you have any idea what it's been like, these past months? Damn it, Jen, why didn't you tell me? How could you leave again like that?"

"I… I don't…"

"It's been killing me. I thought I lost you again, only this time for good. I thought you'd died not knowing…" He broke off, shaking his head. He was shaking, trying not to lose control completely. Through that, though, he could feel she was trembling too, her eyes wide and filled with something he couldn't quite read.

"What?" Her voice was soft, uncertain.

"I was telling the truth, that first day. I did miss you. But that wasn't what I almost said, what I almost didn't stop myself from saying."

"And what was that?" she asked.

"What do you think?"

"I have no idea." She knew what she hoped it was, but even if it had been true then, it was too much to hope for now. His hand came up, fingertips lightly brushing her cheek before his fingers slipped into her hair, toying with the crimson strands. Then he cupped her head with his palm, pulling her closer and brushing his lips against hers.

"I love you. As hard as I tried I couldn't stop. And you just keep leaving me. I can't take any more of it, Jen."

"I… I left because I love you. At least this time around. I couldn't stand it if you got hurt because of me. Or the team; that would be almost as bad. Before… I don't know what I was thinking. It made sense then, but now… Now I just don't know." Her voice was shaking, but she was telling him the truth. He kissed her again, harder this time.

"I don't care what you've gotten yourself into, Jen. I'm sticking with you this time. I let you run before, and I'm not going to make that mistake again." Holding her, he meant that. He really didn't give a damn what it was that had made her run.

She'd tell him, eventually. He'd get it out of her, and then they'd deal with it. But at the moment, with her in his arms for the first time in almost a decade, the explanations could wait.

A/N: Ack! Maybe this is a bit too mushy, but it's my first attempt at Jibbs. I'm a bit worried about that, honestly…


	5. Je t'aime

**Je t'aime**

**by ParisNeverEnded**

**K**

**A/N I'm personally still in denial about Judgment day, which aired a year ago and well thanks to everyone in the Jibbs department of it's possible to still see the romance between Leroy Jethro Gibbs and Jennifer Shepard. So i dedicate this to everyones whose JIBBS fics i have read and those that i am yet to read!!**

**Disclaimer:Not mine**

It was a year to the date that she'd been in that Diner. May 20th 2008. 10 years before she'd been on the Eiffell tower on a windy day with the man she loved. That was a time before her illness, before, Sylveta, before La Grenouille and at the time of love and freedom. That had all gone now, at the expense of her love and life and she had now died to save another.

Leroy Jethro Gibbs was the one she had saved. He had been her lover, somebody who had cared about her all throughout her life, right up until she died. He refused to admit that she'd died, she couldn't have, she was always there for him like he was in return. They were partners, they were lovers, they belonged together; she just couldn't have died.

Life had moved on since that day, Deputy Director Vance had taken her place as Director, new agents had been and gone; and Ziva had left the team. Gibbs hated life for moving on, for continuing like nothing had happened, because something had. Even if Jenny Shepard had not died; as he was telling himself. Part of him knew she had died in that diner, but part of him knew she hadn't. He could feel her heart still beating, her hair still shining and her eyes still glittering.

Gibbs missed that, when they'd been undercover he'd seen the glint in her eye everyday and he'd seen it again when she'd first been appointed Director, but as time took its toll it had disappeared. Gibbs remembered when they'd been in Marseille she had been so full of life, and love.

_**Marseille, August 7th 1998**_

_"Hurry up Jenny," Gibbs shouted through the bathroom door._

_It was 19:25 and the couple were expected to be downstairs in the next 5 minutes, they were going to be late if she didn't hurry up ."Coming Jethro," she replied. _

_True to her word, 3 seconds later she appeared in a green halter neck and very revealing dress. Gibbs' eyes popped at the sight._

_"Happy Birthday Jenny. "He stumbled, struggling to keep his eyes on her face._

_"You like it Jethro?" _

_She grinned evilly._

_"I'd like it even better off Jen."_

_"Well you know what they say about birthday suits." Jenny's eyes sparkled._

Gibbs stared into space as he remembered and sipped at his cold coffee. He'd been sitting at his desk for the last 48 hours not moving unless it was to get coffee.

"Jethro." A light airy voice called.

Gibbs looked up startled, it was Jen's voice, but it couldn't be...could it? He shook his head…it was just his memories acting up. He'd had the same when Shannon and Kelly had died, he'd always be hearing their voices wherever he went.

Gibbs drained the rest of his coffee and deciding that he really needed to go home went to pick up his coat.

"Jethro come here. Jethro." The voice echoed in his head. Gibbs' eyes darted around the squad room; nobody there.

"Oh Jen don't do this to me."

Gibbs left the squad room and walked towards the elevator.

***

"How can he not be here? Why isn't he here?" Abby pouted angrily. All of the team and Abby and Ducky besides Gibbs, were at Arlington Cemetery away but in visible distance from Jenny's grave.

"He'll be here Abs. He'll be here," said McGee. "He was here for Kate, and he'll be here for Jenny."

"If he loves her, he'll be here." Abby piped burying herself in McGee's coat.

"Of course they were in love Abby." Tony remarked.

"Don't say that Tony." Abby replied

"Say what?"

"That they **were **in love. You said that in the past tense not in the present. He **still **loves her."

"She's dead Abby." Ziva said.

"Yes but he can still love her."

"Fine, fine Abs. He still loves her." Tony replied.

"I'm sure he has loved her since she left him in Paris." Ducky spoke for the first time. He knew both Jenny and Gibbs did not want their personal story to be told; but it was time, Ducky thought for the team to know the truth. After all they were family.

***

The elevator doors closed and Gibbs exhaled.

"Jethro." Gibbs turned to see Jenny in an old NIS t-shirt and brown slacks. He doubled back.

"Jen?"

"No I'm the Director's doppleganger."

"Didn't you wear that when Stan shot that Senator?"

"Yes Jethro."

Gibbs' vision blurred and Jen faded into blackness as Gibbs collapsed...

_"Agent Gibbs? Agent Gibbs are you there?" _

Gibbs opened his eyes to see Rich, the security guard standing over him in the lobby.

"Yeah I'm fine Rich." He got up easily but he couldn't help noticing a searing pain in the back of his head.

"Are you sure Agent Gibbs? I can phone the-"

"I'm fine Rich, I've got to go." Gibbs ran off as Rich began to speak.

Gibbs ran through security not knowing where he was going just knowing that he had to get out of the building. He got to his car and belted up and drove out of the Navy yard.

"Jethro." Jenny spoke from the seat next to Gibbs. He turned and sure enough Jenny was sitting there.

"WHAT? WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON JEN?" Gibbs shouted in anger, frustration and at a loss.

"Jethro. You know what you've got to do, for me and for the team. You've got to say goodbye.

***

"So Jenny and Gibbs were together till '99 when she left?" Tony said.

If it had been any other day Tony would have been ecstatic, for years he'd been trying to prove their relationship and his bets had fuelled him further; but it was neither the time nor place to be happy. The very nature of why Ducky was sharing this information saddened the entire team.

"Yes Tony, and Abby I am sure Jethro will be here."

***

"Goodbye Jethro." Jenny's piercing green eyes stared into his blue. He nodded, this was something he had to do alone, one day they'd meet again. He'd pulled up at Arlington Cemetery knowing this was where she wanted him to be.

"Jen. Wait, I need to know something,"

"Yes Jethro."

"That day on the stairs, did you mean it when you said you didn't want a relationship?"

"Yes Jethro because we'd never left our other one." Jenny smiled and then disappeared.

"He really did need help," thought Gibbs.

As he walked through Arlington cemetery gates his heart rate quickened. It had been a year since he'd set foot in Arlington and the American flag was still flying in the distance. This place brought bad memories of fallen Comrades and of a woman who he loved.

"I can't do this Jen." Gibbs whispered. He walked down the path, knowing where she lay without thinking. As he saw the gravestone he noticed a woman already there, but as he neared he saw that what he had thought was a red coat was in fact the woman's hair. She had auburn hair.

Not again. He couldn't deal with another Jen, another false hope, but as she turned he saw her face. Those green eyes belonged to only one woman and that was Jenny Shepard, this was the real thing, this couldn't be another 'ghost' this was the real deal.

"Jenny."

"Jethro." As if in a dream they ran towards one another.

"Je t'aime"

With that their mouths met for a kiss a decade too late.

"What did he say? What did he say?" Abby squealed. She jumped up and down like a 3 year old.

"Abs. He said I love you." Ziva smiled staring at her two friends deeply in love. Mommy and Daddy were back together...This time forever.

Despite their surroundings Jennifer Shepard and Leroy Jethro Gibbs were busy re-exploring each others mouths. There was no doubt they were still in love because although things were yet to be explained; and even more to be put right, to them they had emended their greatest regret all in 2 French words.

**'Je t'aime'**

**A/N It's finished!!!!Finally my very first Jibbsfest entry FINISHED!!Anyway the title is French and sort of translates into 'I love you' and i know this isn't the best i could've done as well honestly i wrote this a few hours before the deadline but i just really wanted to finish this!**


	6. Amor Fati

**Title:** Amor Fati

**Author:** CruorLuna (Alison)

**Spoilers:** Up to 4x19, '_Grace Period_'

**Disclaimer:** I most definitely do not own any of the characters, plots or dialogue you recognise from the show.

Leroy Jethro Gibbs had never liked funerals. He supposed there were few who did, but he had particular trouble with them. He was known for being a man of few words at the best of times, and when confronted with grieving families, he knew better than most exactly how empty words truly were. He usually made his excuses to leave before the wake, not out of any desire to be rude, but out of courtesy to those who knew the deceased best. Today would be no exception. He had known NCIS Special Agent Paula Cassidy well, yes, but he didn't think that made him remotely equal to the woman he presumed to be her mother, or the sobbing teen that Tony had identified as her niece and god-daughter. Hell, even DiNozzo himself had been far closer with Paula than Gibbs had. Jethro had never been one for overdoing things, and he wasn't about to start now. He had as good as ordered DiNozzo and McGee to take the rest of the day off, and left Ziva to make that call for herself. Abby and Ducky had both insisted on returning to work, and he would be joining them, along with the Director of NCIS, Jenny Shepard, who was currently standing alongside him, head bowed in respect.

Jethro knew that as head of the agency, her job pretty much required her to be present, but he liked to think that she had shown up for her own reasons too. He wasn't aware of her having been close with Paula, but the two women certainly knew one another, and above all else, she had been one of Jenny's people. If there was one thing he hoped she had remembered, out of everything he had taught her, it was that an agent's first responsibility was to their team. She had a hell of a size of team to look out for now, but he believed she did care for them all, in her own way. At least, he liked to believe so.

He straightened slightly as the American flag was folded and handed to the woman he was now positive was Mrs Cassidy. Jenny had pulled some strings with the higher-ups and had Paula awarded with the Presidential Medal of Freedom, for which he was grateful. Cassidy deserved no less. Her father, currently battling the final stages of cancer in a retirement home and unable to attend the funeral, was a highly decorated veteran of the United States Army, and as such, Paula was being buried not only with the full honours due to a Medal of Freedom recipient, but in Arlington National Cemetery, as an unmarried child of a war vet. No greater honour could have been bestowed upon her in death, and Jethro was sure that her father would be able to draw some comfort from the fact, even if the mother didn't seem to be particularly aware of it, or of much else outside of her own grief. He could relate.

"Boss?" DiNozzo murmured as the crowd began to disperse, sounding suspiciously choked. "McGee and I were thinking we would put in an appearance at the wake after all. Offer our condolences, you know. I think Paula would have liked that."

"You're probably right, DiNozzo," Jethro agreed.

"You sure you don't want to come?"

"Positive." Gibbs furrowed his brow as he saw Jenny approach Mrs Cassidy and the two exchange murmured words. "Go say your goodbyes, DiNozzo. I'll see you in the morning."

"Thanks boss." Tony nodded and walked away after McGee, while Abby, Ziva and Ducky all made their way to Ducky's Morgan together. Gibbs watched from a distance as Paula's mother handed the flag to Jenny with a watery smile before taking her leave of the younger woman. Jen wandered off through the cemetery, away from the crowd, and Jethro felt strangely compelled to follow. He remained twenty or so paces behind her as she navigated the morbid maze of over 300,000 graves, weaving expertly through them until she found the one she had been seeking. She crouched on the ground and touched the smooth marble almost reverently, murmuring something he couldn't hear. He stayed in the shadow of a nearby tree, unnoticed, or so he thought until her voice floated over to him.

"It's amazing, isn't it?" she asked of both herself and of him, as he stepped closer to her. "It's been twelve years, and yet out of all these headstones, I can still pick it out a mile away. Can still remember being handed the flag as if it were yesterday." Maintaining a respectful distance, Gibbs came around behind her, and was able to make out the engraving. 'Col. Jasper Shepard,' it read, 'a loving husband and doting father. March 16th 1995. Amor Fati.' Jenny turned and caught his eye, guarded emotion visible in her own.

"Your father?" he asked quietly, and she nodded. He returned it, not entirely surprised. They had never talked about their families. "Amor Fati," he read aloud. "What does it mean?"

"It's Latin. It means 'Love of Fate.'"

"He believed in that sort of thing?" Gibbs asked, slightly surprised.

"He was an Army Colonel, Jethro," Jen said with a smile that he couldn't quite make out. "Of course he didn't. It was something he once told me my mother used to say to him every time he returned safely from a tour. She did believe in it - thought it was fate that brought him back to her every time. It seemed fitting somehow. Even though I don't remember it, I always liked the story. Something between them, you know? Does that make sense?"

"Yeah," Jethro said with a nod. "Does to me."

"I thought it might," she agreed, still wearing that strange sort of smile.

"It sounds familiar somehow," he continued with a slight frown, noting how her eyes flashed with something vaguely akin to panic. "Have you told me that story before?"

"Not exactly," she said with a wry smile, and the tone of her voice sparked something within him. They had been in Marseilles, on their second day of the stakeout, when he had been driven from their stuffy attic by their constant arguing. He had wandered for hours in search of coffee before finally tracking some down, and had been on the street outside their loft when he had been ambushed by gunfire from whereabouts unknown. She had seen the whole thing. He had ducked for cover and hidden for almost two more hours before returning, and when he had finally made it back, she had thrown her arms around him, gushing about how worried she had been and how sorry she was for nagging him. That night, for the first time, they had fallen asleep tangled in sheets, sweat cooling on their bodies as they lay in one another's arms. Right as he had been on the verge of slumber, she had murmured something he hadn't understood, and had been too close to asleep to question at the time.

"Amor fati," he repeated now, stepping forward and kneeling alongside her. "I like it." She shot him a sideways glance and a knowing smile, which he returned before gesturing to the folded flag in her arms. "What are you doing with that?" She glanced down at it with a somewhat surprised look, as though she had forgotten about it.

"Oh," she said softly, fingering the material gently, "that. I told Mrs Cassidy that I would stop by the retirement home with it."

"Uh-huh," said Jethro, waiting for her to elaborate of her own accord, which she did a moment later.

"I can still remember it so clearly," she sighed quietly. "Being presented with the flag of the United States by my father's CO; seeing the lines upon lines of saluting men gathered to pay their last respects. It was a strange sort of comfort to have his boss speak to me when he handed over the flag. Colonel Cassidy was the military in the family, not his wife. I thought that as his daughter's CO ... I don't know. It seemed like a good idea at the time."

"Still does," he agreed, and Jenny smiled wanly.

"You would have liked him, I think," she said, gesturing to her father's headstone. Jethro remained silent, surprised yet honoured by this glimpse into her past; knowing that she must need to talk about him. "And he would have hated you on principle."

"Wouldn't be the first time."

"No ... but I think he would have learned to trust you, with time, and that didn't come easily to him. Nobody was ever good enough for me in his eyes..." She cleared her throat nervously and her cheeks flushed as she caught his eye. "But that was a long time ago now, anyway. And I probably wouldn't have joined NCIS if he had been alive. I needed to throw myself into a new challenge; take my mind off of everything." Gibbs hesitated a moment before straightening up slowly and offering her his hand, which she accepted, although not without a raised eyebrow. He hauled her to her feet and glanced back at the Colonel's grave before asking his next question.

"How did he die?" The urge to recoil from her was suddenly overwhelming, as fury like he'd never seen flashed across her face and her eyes narrowed dangerously. The only thing keeping him by her side was the way that her grip on his hand had suddenly tightened, as though drawing strength from him. She drew in a shaky breath, not meeting his eyes.

"He was murdered." He didn't miss the steely edge to her voice, nor the slight quiver that she was trying so hard to disguise. He nodded, squeezing her hand in a gesture of sympathy and support.

"Did they get the guy?" he pressed, and she glanced quickly back at him, suspicion written all over her features; before they softened slightly as she realised that he was only asking out of concern for her.

"Working on it," Jenny assured him in a tone that indicated quite clearly that their conversation was now over. She extracted her hand from his grasp and turned away, making for the cemetery gates. Jethro glanced down at the grave once more, realising where he'd seen that look in her eye before. And as he considered the reverent way in which she'd spoken of her father, the pieces fell into place. He exhaled slowly.

"The Frog," he muttered, shaking his head. He nodded towards the tombstone, a silent promise if there ever was one, and followed Jenny quickly, reaching her just in time to slide into the backseat of the town car alongside her. She frowned at him.

"What are you doing?" she demanded.

"DiNozzo took the car," he explained. It wasn't a lie. He had just neglected to mention that his truck was parked just around the corner. "Thought I'd hitch a ride."

"I'm stopping by the rest home," warned Jen. He shrugged.

"No hurry." She rolled her eyes but signalled to Melvin to drive on nonetheless. The ride to Sunny Oaks Respite Home passed in silence, but not uncomfortable silence. Once the car stopped, Gibbs got out and rounded the vehicle, opening Jenny's door for her before she had a chance to. She allowed him to help her out and shook her head at him, a small smile playing on her lips.

"Let me guess," she said in tones of mock-seriousness. "Your newfound chivalry is going to extend to you offering to escort me inside as well?"

"Well, if you insist ..." She laughed aloud.

"You are incorrigible, Jethro."

"Yeah," he agreed with a smile. "Shall we?" She shook her head in what he knew was an attempt at despair, but which didn't quite work as the smile remained firmly fixed on her face. He allowed her to precede him into the building and hung back while she explained quietly to one of the nurses why they were there. The nurse eyed him slightly suspiciously but nodded, leading them through white, emotionless hallways until they reached yet another of the white, emotionless doorways.

"Mr Cassidy?" the nurse called out in a singsong voice. "Mr Cassidy, are you decent? You have some visitors who would like to speak with you." There was a moment of silence before a gruff male voice responded.

"Who are they?"

"They say they're with – what agency did you say you work for again?" she asked Jenny in a loud whisper. The redhead rolled her eyes.

"NCIS," she said for the fourth time since arriving. "We used to work with his daughter."

"Did you hear that, Mr Cassidy? Some friends of your daughter are here from NCSI." Jen shot Jethro a sideways glance, looking exasperated, and he stifled a chuckle. There was another long pause before the door swung open to reveal an elderly, grey-haired man with drawn features and sharp eyes that regarded them warily.

"All right," he said slowly. "You can come in – but I want to see some identification." Gibbs pulled out his badge and held it out for inspection, and Jenny, looking somewhat surprised at his easy cooperation, did the same. Frank Cassidy looked over both IDs closely before nodding and turning his back on them. "Come in if you want to."

"Thank you," Jenny said quietly to the nurse, who nodded.

"There's a call button in there – just press it if he or you need anything," she said before turning and heading back towards her station. Jenny followed the ex-Colonel into his room and Gibbs brought up the rear, closing the door behind them. The older man gestured for Jen to sit on one of the chairs and he sat in the other, while Jethro took up a position standing just behind Jenny's shoulder.

"So you knew my Paula?" he asked somewhat hoarsely.

"Yes, Colonel," Jenny said gently. "I'm the Director of NCIS, and Agent Cass – Paula, was one of the best we had. You can't imagine how sorry I am for your loss."

"Thanks," the man acknowledged. "You work with her often?" Gibbs saw Jenny hesitate slightly and intervened before she could respond.

"I did," he said, drawing the other man's attention away from Jenny. "First met her over three years ago, when she was stationed in Gitmo. Worked with her on and off on a lot of cases over the years. She was good friends with my Senior Field Agent, Tony DiNozzo."

"I heard the name once or twice," Cassidy agreed. Gibbs nodded.

"She was a fine agent, Colonel. She did you proud." The other man looked Gibbs up and down thoughtfully for a few moments.

"You military, son?" he asked, and Jethro smiled slightly at the term.

"US Marine Corps, sir," he said with a nod.

"Uh-huh. You got that vibe about you. So you really thought highly of my girl?" Gibbs contemplated the best way to put into words what he thought of Paula Cassidy, especially of the way she had died to save so many others. How to even attempt to ease the grief he knew the man was feeling at the loss of his daughter?

"I think … I think your daughter would have made a damn good Marine, sir," he said truthfully, and the man's eyes lit up at the praise. Any military man worth his salt knew all about _Semper Fi_ and the honour that came with being a part of the USMC brotherhood.

"I appreciate that, Special Agent …?"

"Gibbs, sir."

"Agent Gibbs," Cassidy repeated. "Although I don't think a good Marine would die needlessly." Gibbs frowned.

"Paula did what any good Marine would have done, sir," he assured the other man. "She put the welfare of others above her own."

"But she could have lived," was the reply. It wasn't a statement. There wasn't a doubt in Jethro's mind that the Colonel had enough contacts in government to know exactly how his daughter had died. He considered his answer for a moment.

"She could have lived," he agreed. "But I don't think she could have lived with herself." Cassidy seemed to deflate somewhat at this, nodding slowly. Jenny took a deep breath and leaned forward in her chair.

"Colonel, I have something for you," she said gently. He met her eye, looking surprised, and she withdrew the folded flag from her large bag. "This was presented to your wife at the ceremony earlier this morning. As Paula's CO, I thought it would be fitting to deliver it to you myself, in keeping with tradition. Your wife knows she can find it here." Cassidy's eyes were distinctly watery as Jenny stood up and took a step towards him, holding the flag out towards him. "On behalf of the President of the United States and the Chief of Naval Operations, please accept this flag as a symbol of our appreciation for your loved one's service to this Country and a grateful Navy." Cassidy nodded, keeping his eyes downcast as he took the flag and rested it on his lap, stroking it softly. "I really am very sorry, sir," Jenny added quietly.

"Jen," Gibbs called softly, and she glanced over at him. He indicated with his head that they should leave and she nodded, picking up her bag from the chair.

"We'll leave you alone with your thoughts, sir," she said hesitantly. "It really was an honour to work with your daughter, and I'm glad I could meet you today. If there's anything I can do …"

"Thank you," the older man said hoarsely, looking up at them both with eyes shining. "I'll never forget this, Director Shepard. Agent Gibbs … semper fi." Jethro smiled.

"Fair winds and following seas, sir," he returned with a nod. He opened the door and stepped aside to let Jenny out of the room in front of him, before following her and closing the door quietly behind them. One glance at her shining cheeks told him that the meeting had affected her more deeply than she would have liked. "Jen?"

"I'm fine, Jethro," she said, somewhat unconvincingly. "Can we just leave this place, please?" He nodded and they made the walk out of the building in silence. Once on the stairs just outside of the front door, she let out a long breath and he stopped walking and turned to face her.

"You want to talk about it?" he asked. She bit her lip as though thinking about it for a moment, before letting out a sigh.

"I don't like having to do this part of the job, Jethro."

"No CO does, Jen," he reminded her. She nodded, seemed distracted.

"I know, but …"

"What?"

"This isn't Iraq or Afghanistan. My people are not supposed to be killed by suicide bombers here," she explained, looking frustrated.

"No, but they were, Director," he pointed out as gently as he could. "Our job is to do our best to make sure it doesn't happen again."

"How do you stand it, Jethro?" she asked, her tone anguished. "How do you live with the knowledge that so many people you know – agents; fellow Marines; friends – are killed by these people every day? How did you keep your cool in there, when that poor man was so close to falling apart? I can't do what you do. I can't shut it off."

"It's not about shutting it off, Jen," he reminded her a little more sternly. "It's about what you do with it. I choose to fight back before I stop to feel the pain. The only way to fight these people is by not giving in to the fear." She nodded vigorously, wiping away tears and looking irritated with herself.

"You're right," she agreed, taking a long breath. "You're right. I just … I got a little overwhelmed. Colonel Cassidy reminds me a lot of my father. I can't imagine what he's going through, losing a daughter."

"Hell," Gibbs said grimly, and Jenny's face paled and her eyes widened in horror.

"Oh, Jethro," she all but whispered. "Jethro, I am so sorry …"

"Don't apologise," he began, but she cut him off by clapping her hand over his mouth and glaring at him.

"That was thoughtless of me," she said firmly. "I **am** sorry." He wrapped the fingers of one hand around her wrist and removed her hand from his mouth, pulling it down towards where her other one rested. He then stepped closer to her and took both of her hands in his, looking down at her thoughtfully.

"All right," he said quietly. "I'll accept it, just this once." She half-smiled, glancing down at their connected hands.

"Good," she agreed a little breathlessly. "So do you, uh … do you still need a ride home?"

"Sure," he said, beginning to let go of her hands reluctantly. One of hers shot out and grabbed one of his, and her cheeks flushed red.

"Unless," she said, her voice somewhat higher pitched than normal. "Unless … well, there's bourbon at my place. I'm sure Noemi wouldn't mind making a little extra food tonight. And I … I think we could both use the company." He tightened his fingers around hers, thinking about how if Paula Cassidy hadn't been killed, they never would have wound up here having this conversation. He nodded slowly before replying.

"Amor fati."


	7. Nightmares and Dreamscapes

Nightmares and Dreamscapes

By: MissJayne

The cold morning air surrounded Leroy Jethro Gibbs as he stepped out of his car. The sun was shining somewhere above him, but it had yet to warm Arlington National Cemetery.

As his hands tightened on the flowers he held, he wondered briefly why the weather was so nice. It was a year since Jenny's death – a year since the light had gone out on his life for the second time. Why did other people get second chances and not him?

He walked past a flag at half mast, his feet following a path they knew by heart. Although he would never let his team know, he tried to visit Jenny at least once a week. Sometimes he would simply stand and stare at her headstone, and others he would talk to her.

He knew his team still worried about him, about how badly her death had affected him. With good reason too; he had lost the second love of his life and he knew he would never meet someone quite like Jenny. She had accepted the darkness that resided deep inside his heart and left it alone. Everyone else tried to change him; she had merely smiled and gone along for the ride.

With the years that had passed, he had learnt why. She had her own demons hidden deep inside of her. She had not wanted to share them either, both content to ignore the darkness and embrace the light that existed when they were together.

The headstone stood in front of him, mocking him with its empty words. No words could sum up how much Jenny Shepard had meant to him, no words could sum up everything she had done in her life. He glared at them for a moment as though they were the reason she was not standing beside him, teasing him and getting in the way of his cases.

He blew the air out of his lungs in one long breath. The red roses in his hands suddenly seemed inadequate for her. Memories of happier times came crashing back over him. He allowed them to come, regretting that they hadn't been able to put aside their differences sooner and thus spent more time together.

"Jenny," he croaked after a few minutes. He cleared his throat, deciding to try again.

"Remember Marseilles?" He picked the first memory that came to mind. "That stakeout. August. Stuck in that attic with no air, photographing everyone who boarded that Lebanese trawler. That second night, that's the first time we…"

He trailed off, fairly sure that he shouldn't be recalling _that_ memory while standing at someone's grave.

The roses in his hands reminded him what he had come for. He sighed, running a finger over one of the petals. Kneeling down, he placed the flowers on the grass…

Only for a hand to swiftly emerge from the ground and grab his hand…

NCISNCISNCIS

Leroy Jethro Gibbs sat bolt upright in bed.

Another nightmare. They seemed to be a regular occurrence for him. He hauled himself out of bed and headed for the shower, knowing from experience that he would need to wash the sweat and fear away from him before facing the rest of the day.

It wasn't long before he found himself in his car, driving in the opposite direction to the Navy Yard. Vance had decided that it was safer to give him the day off than to deal with his expected mood on the first anniversary of Jenny's death. Gibbs felt that it was the safest course of action; he wasn't entirely sure how to behave. There was only so long that he could snap at his team and make sure that Jenny was not mentioned by name.

He followed a route that he been etched in his memory for some time now, making sure that he took the necessary precautions. No one appeared to be following him so he pulled up outside the house.

It was an older house, on the outskirts of DC. He knew from experience that the neighbors were friendly and knew when not to pry. He stepped out of his car, a bunch of red roses in his hands.

He didn't bother to knock, going for the hidden spare key instead. He might have a key of his own but she needed to learn that she couldn't leave a key outside, inviting anyone and everyone into her safe haven.

The door swung open easily and he entered. He smirked as he saw her on the stairs.

"Hello Jethro," she greeted him, hiding her surprise well and making her way down the rest of the steps.

"Hello Jen," he answered, drawing her into a hug and holding her close.

She pulled away after a little while. "I take it you've missed me," she commented, smiling softly. "How are you? How's my agency?"

"Agency's fine," he noted, following her into the kitchen as she hunted for a vase for her flowers. "Vance wasn't sure what to do with me today, so here I am."

"I hate witness protection," she grumbled, placing the vase on the table and turning to inspect her roses. "Is there a reason these aren't at Arlington?"

He couldn't exactly tell her that he hadn't left the flowers on her grave because he was afraid of her really being dead and grabbing his hand. Judging by the smirk on her face, she had a good idea though.

"Leroy Jethro Gibbs, you are a strange man," she grinned.

He grinned back at her before placing a soft kiss to her lips. "_I'm _strange?"

She nodded. "Do you have any plans for today? I mean other than standing in my kitchen and talking."

He pretended to think, before pulling her off her feet and heading towards the stairs.

"Jethro!" she squealed. "Put me down."

He ignored her, taking the stairs two at a time and hoping against all hope that his team weren't stupid enough to call him for the next few hours.

THE END


	8. Memories of Yesterday

Title: Memories of Yesterday

Author: NickyK

Disclaimer: I own nothing!

A/N: I'm just started to get back into writing and here is what I came up with. Please forgive any errors as I am my own proofreader. Hope you enjoy the story!

Memorial Day - a day of honoring our fallen soldiers; a day for remembering the men and woman who've gone before us, who've sacrificed their lives for the freedom and well-being of our country and its citizens. It was a beautiful day with gorgeous weather and Leroy Jethro Gibbs was glad to be a part of it.

The "Day of Honor" celebration had ended but no one it seemed was ready to depart. Clusters of people were gathered in different areas throughout the estate; some lingering on the platform leading up to the house, others headed out toward the cemetery to share history with their children.

Gibbs stood atop the steps at the Arlington Mansion, staring out at the rows upon rows of headstones - each adorned with small American Flags – each placed with a magnitude of respect and gratitude. It humbled him, as it did every time he came to this here, to be standing in a place rich in history, knowing that Arlington National Cemetery was the final resting place of many, many fine men and women.

A warm hand slipped in to his, reminding him that he did not come alone. Not that he was likely to forget. He'd been through too much to make sure she was still with him; he would not be forgetting the gift that was Jenny Shepard anytime soon.

She squeezed his hand gently, leaning forward to whisper in his ear.

"You look a million miles away."

He gave her a small smile and looked back out across the wide expanse of lawn in front of him. "It's this place, the wonder of it all. Makes me really appreciate what I've got, ya know."

Hey green eyes softened and she smiled lovingly at him. "I know."

They shared a look and he knew she really did know. A year ago, he had almost lost her and the knowledge of that fact was still a raw wound for him. Pulling her to him Gibbs pressed his lips against her temple.

"How are you holding up?" he asked.

"I'm fine," she replied quickly.

Maybe a little too quickly, he thought, as he leaned her away from him. He looked at her intently, seeing past the reassuring smile and the makeup. This morning before they'd left the house, she seemed a little green but assured him she was fine then too. Still…

"I'd feel better if you'd at least let Ducky check you out when we get back. You still look a bit tired, Jen."

She smiled tenderly at the concern in his eyes. "Jethro, I'm fine. Really."

He held her gaze a moment longer and then nodded his acceptance. Jenny wouldn't dismiss his concerns, not after everything they'd been through. If she said she was fine, he would have to believe that. They'd worked hard to get that trust back between them and he had to believe that every little thing wasn't always _something_.

"Let's walk."

"Ok," she agreed.

They descended the stairs slowly, mainly because Gibbs was always conscious of the wounds she'd incurred and knew despite what Jenny believed to the contrary that she was not 100%, even after all this time.

As they reached the bottom and started walking, hand in hand, toward the rows of headstones, he heard her take a deep breath and waited.

He didn't have to wait long.

"Jethro," she began after a moment, "I've made my decision."

"About?" he asked, but they both knew what she was referring too. It was an issue between them since she'd gotten out of the hospital.

"About returning to work," she played along.

Gibbs stiffened. He really didn't want to have this argument now, especially here, but he was certainly prepared to give her one.

"Jen, you're not ready."

He could feel her bristling beside him but when she spoke her voice was calm.

"I understand that is what _you_ think, Jethro, but I disagree."

Gibbs stopped walking and faced her. He opened his mouth to argue, when she held up her hand to stop him.

"Wait, here me out first, please."

Her green eyes pleaded with him and he reluctantly agreed.

Taking his silence as her answer, she said, "Just remember, Jethro, that what I am about to say has nothing to do with how you feel about me returning to work. I've come to this decision for entirely different reasons than the ones you're citing." She tugged his hand so that they could continue walking and Gibbs fell into step beside her.

"Firstly, "she continued, "I feel fine. I know that I have some lingering medical issues from all that's happened but I am capable of doing my job," she said firmly, sliding her gaze to him. "However, after giving this a lot more thought, I have decided that I will submit my resignation as Director of NCIS."

Gibbs stopped walking again and saw the flash of irritation in her eyes. He ignored it. "You're going to step down?" he asked, surprise.

She smirked at him. "Isn't that what I just said?"

Gibbs was floored. He could tell from the uncertain look in her eyes that this wasn't a decision she'd made lightly. He hadn't wanted her to quit completely. That wasn't an option he'd even anticipated her entertaining. He had just wanted her to take it easy and be totally healed before she stepped back in.

"Jen, I never wanted you to quit."

She finger one of the opened buttons at his collar. "I know. But I'm ready," she said softly. She took a breath and Gibbs could practically see her carefully choosing her words.

"I've sacrificed a lot for my career, Jethro and up until now, it's been a rewarding experience for me. But now that we're…well…you know." She blushed and Gibbs' eyes lit up in amusement at her discomfort. "I just wanted to focus more on us now," she finished quietly, her eyes flickering briefly up to his. "I want this to work," she said gesturing between them, "and I want to be able to enjoy making it work without worrying about out jobs interfering."

Little did she know he wanted to exact same thing. Gibbs reached for her, cupping her cheek in his hand. "You know you don't have to resign for us to work. We will work," he said firmly. "But if that's really what you want to do, you know I'll support you, Jenny.

She nodded jerkily. "It's time." She smiled at him through teary eyes and he knew there was nothing he wouldn't do for her.

"Okay," he said, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her close.

They continued walking, reading the names of the fallen soldiers on the headstones. Gibbs couldn't help but think that this day could have been a lot different for him. The day he'd called Jen's cell phone and heard DiNozzo's voice was a day etched in his memory forever. He still remembered traveling to LA thinking one thought and one thought only: he couldn't lose her. And on the tail of that was the realization that he'd never stopped loving her. For a man that wasn't really into religion, he'd promised God everything under the sun that day if he would just let her live. And he didn't stop making promises until he heard the doctor say Jenny would survive. But when complications arose and they had to rush her back into surgery, Gibbs pleading gave way to his need for vengeance. So while Jenny lay slipping into a coma, he'd been out handling what she'd started.

She was out for six weeks and two days. Gibbs had crossed them off on a calendar he'd kept in his basement at his home. Work had been torture, mainly for anyone who came into contact with him. He'd mellowed out after the first two weeks. He hadn't had a choice with the acting Director trying to split his team. But he hadn't been the same.

At least not until the fateful day he'd gotten the call from Ducky telling him that his Jenny was finally awake.

It took a lot of work to get her back on her feet again. Even more work to get her to open up and trust in his love for her. But once she did, it was like Marseilles all over again. They were pretty much inseparable.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked after they'd walked in silence for a while.

When he didn't answer, she looked up at him questionably. "Jethro?"

He cleared his throat. "I was thinking about what this Memorial Day would have been like for me if I had lost you," he murmured quietly.

Jenny said nothing at first. She took his hand and led him over to a nearby bench. She turned to him as they sat, staring earnestly into his eyes.

"I love you, Jethro, and I will not do anything to willingly put myself in that kind of situation again. You know that, right?"

He ran his finger down her cheek. "I know."

"Good." She said and settled back against him.

A family not far from them, reading the headstones and Gibbs watched them silently, enjoying the feel of Jenny's body against his own. He lost track of time as they sat, talking quietly, enjoying each other's company. After a while, he looked down at his watch and saw Jenny do the same. They still had it, he thought, with a smirk as they rose from the bench and headed back the way they'd come.

"Excuse me, mister," said a little voice from behind him.

Gibbs felt a tug on his pant leg. He stopped and turned around, staring into the frightened face of a boy about six years of age. He realized it was the kid from the family he'd seen earlier reading the headstone. He must have wandered off, Gibbs thought. He bent down to the little boy's level.

"What can I do for you, soldier?" Gibbs asked, noticing the plastic military pin attached to the boy's shirt.

The boy straightened up when Gibbs called him a soldier. "I don't know where my dad went. He was right there," he said. Gibbs could tell the little boy was trying to be brave but the quiver in his voice gave him away.

"What's your name, son?"

"Kyle," the boy answered softly.

"Well, Kyle, how about we do a little investigating and find your father. Are you up for it, soldier?"

"Yes sir," the boy said promptly.

For half an hour, Gibbs, Jenny and Kyle searched the premises for his family. Gibbs tried to make it into a game so that Kyle wouldn't be too frightened and in the end when they did find his family, Kyle was laughing and telling his dad how much fun he had "investigating his disappearance" as Gibbs had put it.

The family thanked Gibbs and Jenny profusely for helping Kyle. Gibbs waved away their thanks, seeing how worried they were about the boy, he was glad to help.

"You have a good kid, there. It was no problem," said Gibbs as they thanked him once again.

Jenny smiled at him as they walked away. "I've always admired your way with kids. You ever think of having any of your own?"

Gibbs had a since of déjà vu. He smirked at her. "That an offer, Jen?" he asked fully expecting her to follow script.

She paused and linked her fingers through his. "I think it is," she said chuckling softly at the look of utter surprised on his face. "In fact," she added, "we may be well past the offering stage, Jethro."

Her squeal of laughter could be heard across the entire estate.

The End


End file.
